Rarely in the house. I even forgot what did set it off. For foods that smoke, we do them on our outdoor grill, which also has a side burner. It is under our patio roof so we can use it all year long. However, I set it off in the RV all the time. The dang thing is about 6 ft. away from the stove, so we always take it down before I cook, or it goes off as soon as something steams or smokes.

It took me four tries before I managed to fry the chicken for Paul Prudhomme's delicious recipe for Cajun Chicken and Anduouille Gumbo without starting a grease fire on the stove.

The second time I ever tried making this dish it was after midnight in early January. Here in New Hampshire the outside temperature was well below 0 degrees F. I over-crowded the frying chicken. The pan started smoking ominously, and I thought, "this doesn't look good". I took the pan off the fire seconds before a major grease blaze, with accompanying thick black smoke, started up. This set off all the smoke alarms in my condo. To try to avoid annoying the neighbors, I opened all the windows and doors, and frantically fanned the smoke alarms to get them to shut up.

It was at this point that my exclusively indoor cat decided she'd had enough of the smoke and noise, and went for an outdoor excursion. I tried looking for her in the freezing cold, muttering "here, kitty kitty" as loud as I could without waking everyone up, but to no avail.

I had to finish the Chicken and Andouille Gumbo (which turned out deliciously) wearing a parka because I had to leave the front door open so the cat could get in whenever she deigned to come home.

Half an hour later, the cat materialized in the living room and I was able to close the front door. The rest of the night (including the delicious Gumbo) passed in peace.

It was the early eighties. My first wife and I were still married and residing in the foreigners' section of married student housing on Rutgers' Busch Campus in Piscataway, NJ. My son counted hardly three years and my daughter was freshly hatched from the egg. Good times, but ...

Cockroaches dominated the wildlife in the housing units. And every night, at least three or four times, some some lost cockroach soul would wander blindly into the smoke detector, short circuit it, and set it off.

Used to do it all the time in my old house. In the current one, the smoke alarm is at the top of the stairs and there's a door I can close between the stairs and the kitchen. Only time I've set it off was the first time I tried Barbara Kafka's high temperature roasting method on a chicken. Made a mess out of the oven as well as setting off the alarm. Since then, I've learned to put a layer of potatoes on the bottom of the roasting pan to collect the grease. All is quiet....

My husband and I sometimes stay in the apartment above his business when we are in that part of the country. Last summer we were there with our dogs and our lab was experiencing skin allergies. The vet advised us to cook lamb and rice for him, so there I was in the employee kitchen, giving the lamb a good searing as though Cooper would not eat the lamb unless it had a nice tasty crust. Ha!
Anyway, many products stored at this business are highly flameable and therefore an intense fire prevention code is in place, including a deafening alarm that is directly wired to the local fire department (where, incidentally, several acquaintences of my husband are on duty.) Unfortunately, once the alarm goes off, there is no calling off the fire department. They must send a unit.
You know the story... the unit arrived - huge red truck, everyone in their gear. I, trying to take the heat off my husband (since it wasn't his fault) quickly offered how sorry I was. "It was my fault, I was cooking lamb for our dog." Of course, this raise eyebrows as in "what kind of knit wit would cook fresh lamb for a dog." Needless to say, my husband took a lot of ribbing over that one. He loves to tell the story though.